


20 pumps vanilla, 1 pump cinnamon

by aozu



Category: Haikyuu!!, ダイヤのA | Daiya no A | Ace of Diamond
Genre: Accidental Kiss, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Denial of Feelings, Fluff, M/M, Matchmaking, Pining, Stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-17 06:49:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5858611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aozu/pseuds/aozu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>College AU where Furuya is the coffee boy and Miyuki is the terrible person ordering weird ass coffee. </p>
<p>Oh, and Oikawa is there with frappes and Snapchat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	20 pumps vanilla, 1 pump cinnamon

**Author's Note:**

> This kind of randomly blossomed with [everbad](http://everbad.tumblr.com/) from Oikawa’s apparent megane status, which obviously meant he and Miyuki would be hipster snobs being terrible together. Also, Miyuki with the massive crush pls and thank you.
> 
> You might notice that I eventually gave zero shits about characterisation and writing style I JUST WANTED TO FINISH WRITING THIS SOBS

When Oikawa first starts University, he has two main concerns: one, his roommate and two, boredom. It all stems from the fact that he isn’t attending the same school as Iwaizumi after all those childhood years together—Iwaizumi wants to be a doctor, while Oikawa battled between Economics and Literature but settled with Philosophy, and it just so happened that neither of their chosen colleges had faculties that the other was interested in. They’re just a train ride away so it’s not like they can’t hang out, but it means that Oikawa can’t bully Iwaizumi into being his roommate and is thus stuck with the random roulette assignment.

His roommate turns out to be a coursemate by the name of Miyuki Kazuya—baseballer, brunette, bespectacled, friendly enough—which he makes shallow small talk as and when they’re in the room together in the first week, until he comes home one night after volleyball practice and sees Miyuki watching an episode of _Andromeda_ on his laptop with the lights off against the foot of his own bed. Oikawa might have dropped his volleyball but he absolutely does not recall stumbling in like a drunk idiot (as Miyuki sniggers now) to invite the other to an upcoming sci-fi convention (suck it, Iwa-chan, he’s not that weird after all).

So Oikawa might have a new BFF in the form of (as he learns) a pretty twisted personality, but that’s fine because he knows he can be worse if he wants to be. They hit off well with similar habits; analysing way too much sport matches, watching way too many sci-fi series, as well as drinking way too much coffee.

There’s lots of reading and writing to do for their course requirements, so it’s rather often that they stay a while in a coffeeshop about two lanes away from campus to do work until one of them has club activities or something.  The coffeeshop in question is _tiny_ —there’s only two tables to sit at—but it’s usually empty because there’s a much cheaper alternative on campus itself and most people come in for takeaways. But Oikawa loves the frappes that he can get here instead of watered-down college coffee and Miyuki has terrible complicated coffee orders that the other feels justified in unleashing for the price he pays, so they stick to it.

Now in their second year, they’re still roommates—it’s way easier than trying to find an en suite room in the dorms—and they’re still emptying their allowance into this coffee place. It’s nothing unusual for them to enter in on a Friday afternoon, but there’s a few face behind the counter that they don’t recognise. It’s usually a petite pink haired senior with eyes like slits and smile ready for literal murder that goes by ‘Ryousuke’, but instead of Ryo-san there’s a younger, taller youth with short black hair and blue eyes with an incredibly fair complexion that Oikawa is for a second jealous of.

He’s _cute._

“Hi,” Miyuki steps up first, and Oikawa blinks, turning to watch the disaster that is about to unfold. “Can I have a caramel macchiato with skim milk and an extra shot, make it extra hot with extra whip cream and sugar free?”

_Wow no mercy_ , Oikawa coughs inwardly, side eyeing Miyuki who recites it with no change in expression.

“I want it large.”

The new coffee boy nods and repeats the order slowly under his breath as he types it into the cash machine. “Skim milk. Extra shot. Extra hot. Extra…”

“Extra hot, extra whip cream, sugar free,” Miyuki finishes. “Oh, top it with cinnamon powder, thanks.”

“Savage,” Oikawa mutters under his breath.

“Would you like anything else?” the coffee boy asks after repeating the order to himself once more.

“Mm—“

Oikawa’s eyebrows furrow, watching a sly grin peek into Miyuki’s curled lips. Oh my god, there’s someone worse than he is.  Deciding to take pity on the coffee boy, he elbows Miyuki from the back.

“Hey, can I get a caramel frappe? Make it a large too,” Oikawa turns on his smile with an added bit of charm. “You’re new, aren’t you? Ryo-san usually makes the coffee. What’s your name?”

The coffee boy pauses, glancing at him.  “…Furuya Satoru.”

Oikawa makes a hum. “And where’s Ryo-san?”

“Kominato-senpai has exams.”

“I see. Well, I’m Oikawa Tooru and this is Miyuki Kazuya,” he grins, patting Miyuki on the shoulder. “We’re regulars here so you’ll definitely see more of us, _Satoru-chan_.”

Miyuki coughs like he just choked on saliva and Oikawa eyes him briefly.

“Would you like anything else?” Furuya asks again and Oikawa plasters on his mega-watt smile and shakes his head. “…That will be twelve hundred and eighty-six yen.”

“Pay for me first, I’ll pay you back later, thanks,” Oikawa says breezily to Miyuki as he turns away to grab one of the empty tables to sit down.

It’s something he noticed when Miyuki first spoke to Furuya, but it becomes more obvious when he’s had a seat and is in full view of the way Miyuki looks at the boy behind the counter. Miyuki hums and taps his fingers on the counter as Furuya prints the receipt from the cash machine, but occasionally the baseballer will cast glances which linger on the other, and the gaze flickers up and down, like Miyuki is _checking_ the other out.

Huh.

Oikawa whips his phone out and snaps a picture of Miyuki leaning against the counter with Furuya in view and sends it to Iwaizumi with the caption _miyuki’s new crush_.

He gets a reply almost instantaneously.

 

> _> > isn’t that kageyama_
> 
>  
> 
> _> > IWA-CHAN PLEASE _

 

Oikawa types furiously in big caps, but he accedes after a couple of seconds.

 

> _> > you’re right he kind of does look like tobio-chan  
>  _ _he looks less constipated tho_
> 
>  
> 
> _> > you’re terrible_

 

He closes the app when Miyuki comes and passes him the receipt. From their table it’s easy to secretly watch Furuya moving around the pantry, which both of them do with no restraint.

“He’s cute,” Oikawa says when they see Furuya outwardly pause and chew his lip at the order list (probably Miyuki’s).

“Don’t you like your childhood friend or something?” Miyuki replies, not looking at him. “And what’s with the ’Satoru-chan’?”

“What, it’s not a crime to look,” Oikawa sniffs. “How old do you think he is?”

“Probably a first year,” Miyuki says. “You interested?”

Oikawa smirks. “I think the question is ‘are _you_ ’?”

Miyuki turns to look at him, with surprise first, and then eyes narrowed, and then with a playful grin. “Like you said,” he shrugs off-handedly. “He’s cute.”

There comes a soft crash in the pantry, and both of them look up to see Furuya fumbling with two metal jugs.

“Is he going to be okay?” Oikawa murmurs his breath, but he’s coughing with Miyuki to hide their amusement.

It takes much longer than the coffee is usually made, but Furuya comes over when he’s done and serves them their respective drinks. Oikawa takes a first sip not expecting much from a newbie, but his eyes go wide when he swallows his mouthful. It’s _thick_ and sweet and the right mix of caramel and coffee—it’s one of the best frappes he’s ever had.

“Hey, you forgot the extra whip cream,” Miyuki says, looking at Furuya pointedly.

Furuya freezes, reaching out to take the drink back. “…Sorry. I…I’ll add it on.”

“Wait,” Miyuki says, halting the other by the hand. He takes a sip of the coffee—it’s hot, extra-hot, like he asked, but, “Is this skim milk? I’m pretty sure it’s not.”

Furuya makes this troubled expression, ducking his head. “I’m sorry. I’ll make another one.”

Miyuki opens his mouth to reply, but Furuya has already taken his drink behind the counter. Oikawa coughs in his throat, swallowing down his frappe.

“Woah _shit_ , Ryo-san would’ve emptied that coffee over your head,” he manages, trying not to choke from laughing.

“Well,” Miyuki says, sounding slightly guilty. “He offered.”

Oikawa hums, taking out his laptop to start on work like they should be doing since they came in. They fiddle with a bit of required reading until Furuya comes back with the new promised coffee and sets it in front of Miyuki. Oikawa pretends to be busy in his work, pushing up his glasses and everything whilst eavesdropping on the other two. Miyuki raises his eyebrow and takes a mouthful while Furuya stands next to him expectantly—he closes his eyes and swallows, licking his lips after.

“…Hm…” he says with furrowed eyebrows. “There’s…—actually, nevermind, it’s fine, I can survive it. Thanks.”

“Um,” Furuya starts, looking determined. “I can make it again if…”

Miyuki chokes, nearly spluttering out his second mouthful. “Uh, no. It’s fine.”

“But—“

Oikawa looks up, grinning. “Satoru-chan,” he winks. “Mine is _perfect_.”

Neither of them are prepared for the way Furuya blinks and _brightens_ up—if Oikawa could call him objectively cute before then it’s _beyond_ that now, the air around them light and sparkling. He’s speechless for a couple of seconds until Furuya bows shortly and returns to the counter with happiness trailing after the other. He glances over at Miyuki who is staring with a confused incredulous parted mouth gape.

 

* * *

 

“I want a half caff dolce soy skinny ice latte, ristretto, four pumps, make it sugar free with cinnamon. Large.”

Oikawa watches again as Furuya repeats the order under his breath dutifully before looking up and asking, “Would you like anything else?”

He’s sure that’s the line that gets to Miyuki, because he can see Miyuki swallow slightly with a grin that spells evil—he always cuts in here before Miyuki indulges himself and takes it too far.

“Large matcha frappe for me,” Oikawa sings from behind. “Pay you back later, Miyuki.”

“Sure, whatever.”

They’ve been frequenting the coffeeshop as usual for two weeks now, with Ryo-san nowhere in sight—and there’s nothing to stop Miyuki’s terrible coffee orders which Furuya tries to adhere to with the best of his ability. It’s a disaster and it’s also disastrously cute when Furuya comes to serve their drinks and Miyuki always has something to complain about—Oikawa’s only ever had perfect frappes so he’s not complaining—and Oikawa’s pretty sure the shop might be losing money with the number of times Furuya has taken Miyuki’s order back to re-make it. The worst part is that neither of them stop the coffee boy but instead watch from their table; Oikawa snaps another picture of his matcha frappe with chocolate powder and the right balance bitter and sweetness and captions it _GODLIKE_ when it comes before sending it to Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi types back.

 

> _> > how many of these do you drink. better watch your weight _

 

Oikawa sours and takes a long swallow from his frappe.

 

> _> > R UDE AF_
> 
>  
> 
> _> > are you still tormenting the kid_
> 
>  
> 
> _> > not me  
>  _ _miyuki’s getting off on it_

 

Miyuki’s _definitely_ getting off on it, Oikawa can tell, because when Furuya serves Miyuki’s drink, Miyuki purposely takes a slow sip and hums under his breath like it actually takes brain cells to decipher the taste of the coffee.

“Oh,” Miyuki says, voice pleasant. “It’s right this time. Thanks.”

There’s a disappointed flicker in Furuya’s eyes when the other bows and leaves.

“ _This_ time?” Oikawa mouths silently, kicking Miyuki under the table, but Miyuki merely shrugs and drinks more of his latte.

Both of them startle when Furuya walks back with a sliced cheesecake and puts it gently down on their table.

“For the other times,” Furuya says softly, meeting Miyuki’s eyes seriously before taking his leave again.

Oikawa blinks, and he blinks some more until a cough bubbles up his throat. Oh my god. “…Are you going to eat it?”

Miyuki glances towards the counter before glancing back at the cake, hands clenching around the table like he doesn’t know what to do. “It’s free….so yeah,” he manages after a while.

Oikawa lifts his phone to snap a picture to Iwaizumi of Miyuki still staring at the cake with the caption THE START OF SOMETHING NEW.

 

> _> > what did you do_

 

Oikawa sours.

 

> _> > I didn’t do anything?? !! ! ?_  
>  _miyuki got a free cake because satoru-chan felt bad about messing up his orders_  
>  _i think miyuki feels bad now  
>  _ _maybe  
>  _ _it’s hard to tell, he’s kinda terrible_
> 
>  
> 
> _> > congrats, you’re not the worst person in the world_
> 
>  
> 
> _> > you meanie_ 

 

Miyuki does eat the cheesecake, but Oikawa catches him eyeing Furuya out of the corner of his eye for the rest of the afternoon.

 

* * *

 

Miyuki _does not_ have a crush.

He can’t have a crush because that’s _juvenile_ and he doesn’t have _time_ for a relationship and he’s totally _fine_ with releasing sexual frustration in a no strings way, he doesn’t _need_ a crush; except, his heart is doing weird things when Oikawa casually asks one night before they’re going to sleep,

“Hey, when are you going to ask Satoru-chan out?”

To Miyuki’s credit, he’s calm enough to feign ignorance. “…Where did that come from?”

Oikawa actually stops fluffing his pillow to look at him blandly. “Miyuki.”

“Seriously, why are you asking me that?”

Oikawa makes an over exaggerated sigh before setting his pillow down and dropping his head on it.  “Come on Miyuki, you always make him re-make your weird coffee that are all probably fine anyway.”

“I don’t ask him to do that,” Miyuki sniffs. “He always forgets the extra whip cream, it’s not my fault that—“

Oikawa interrupts casually. “So, you wouldn’t mind if _I_ asked him out then?”

Miyuki looks slightly taken aback before he squints at Oikawa. “…Do you _actually_ like the childhood friend that you always whine about?”

“I don’t whine about Iwa-chan,” Oikawa huffs. “Besides, it’s not going anywhere,” he replies, twirling the front lock of his hair absentmindedly. “Maybe in the next decade he’ll realise it but for now, Satoru-chan is pretty cute, no? He always adds extra chocolate powder on my frappes, I think he likes me. Didn’t you see how happy he looked when I said he made the best frappes in the world? Which is totally true, I’d marry him just for that hazelnut frappe he—”

And then Oikawa abruptly bursts into laughter, leaving Miyuki confused.

“Oikawa, what the hell.”

“Y-your face—p-pft—“ Oikawa slams his fist against his chest, coughing. “Hey, hold still for a bit, I wanna snap this to Iwa-chan—“

Miyuki growls low in his throat the same moment his face flushes aflame because he realises he had been _glaring_. He tackles Oikawa on the bed, fighting for the phone that the other tries to shove in front of his face for a picture. The resulting snap that comes out is a twelve second blurry video of desperate struggling and failing between them; Miyuki honestly does not care if Iwaizumi (most likely recipient) spies Oikawa’s dead body on the floor.

Oikawa huffs and pulls himself back to his bed while Miyuki does his thing about pretending the conversation didn’t happen at the other side of the room. His roommate sure has some particular oddities about being stubborn about a _crush_ —and Satoru-chan seems so nice anyway, he honestly has no idea why Miyuki needs to go through the long hard way for this. But whatever, there are still many days that he can bother Miyuki about this, so he turns on his side and goes to sleep.

He wakes up when something whacks him dully right in the face. It’s still pitch black and he gropes around blindly and realises he’s been hit by a pillow—the soft glow of his phone tells him it’s just past 3 a.m.

“—What the hell?” he mutters sleepily to the air of the room, and then comes Miyuki’s frustrated voice.

“Fuck you.”

“Wha?”

“Fuck you,” Miyuki repeats from his bed bluntly and Oikawa blinks his eyes open.

He laughs so hard that he doesn’t sleep that night.

 

* * *

 

He and Miyuki have most of their modules together, but on Friday their last class are at opposite ends of the campus. Today he reaches the coffeeshop first—it’s empty, with Miyuki is nowhere in sight. Furuya looks up when he steps in; there’s no smile on the other’s face, but Oikawa sees the flicker of recognition in those blue eyes.

“Good afternoon!” he greets brightly, sauntering over to the counter.

“Good afternoon,” Furuya replies slowly, as though unsure why he’s being greeted with trivialities.

It’s a good chance to do a bit of recon, Oikawa thinks, since Miyuki isn’t here. He’s a hundred and one percent sure that his roommate is harbouring disgustingly cute thoughts about the coffeeboy which is why he needs to _help_ the poor soul.

“What would you like to order?” Furuya speaks up when all he does is to grin back.

“Strawberry frappe, large,” Oikawa answers without missing a beat. He leans further on the counter as Furuya nods and types it into the register. “So, Satoru-chan,” he begins, grinning inwardly at how Furuya gives him a glance at the nickname. “You study here right? A first year? What do you study?”

“…Geography. That will be 545 yen.”

“Cool,” he nods as he digs into his pocket for his wallet. “We—I mean Miyuki and I—we do Philosophy, second years,” he continues, slapping out a thousand yen note. “Hey, what are you doing tomorrow?”

Furuya pauses, looking at him briefly before taking the note. “Buying mochi.”

“Oh?” Oikawa perks up, interested. “Oh, right, there’s a mochi festival in town this weekend. You like mochi?”

Furuya seems to contemplate his question for a bit before answering. “My mother wants some.”

“Your mom?” Oikawa blinks. “Why can’t she—unless, you’re not from here?”

“I’m from Hokkaido,” Furuya answers, setting down some coins with a receipt. “Your change.”

“Thanks,” Oikawa smiles, stuffing the money and paper into his pocket without looking at them. “So…are you going to the mochi festival alone?”

Furuya nods. Ooh, _strike._

“Say, would you mind if—“

At this moment, the door opens and Oikawa turns to spy Miyuki stepping in; he can clearly see the split second when Miyuki’s expression turned dark because of his intimate position against the counter before it’s carefully hidden behind a harmless smile.

“Yo,” Oikawa smiles wide, trying not to snicker.

“Hey,” Miyuki nods, eyes briefly flitting between Furuya and him. “Did you order already, or…?”

“Yeah, go ahead,” Oikawa waves his hand casually but stays where he is.

“Okay,” Miyuki replies with slight suspicion in his tone, but nevertheless turns his attention to Furuya. “I want a chai tea latte, three pumps, use skim milk and lite water, no foam and make it extra hot.”

Oikawa furrows his eyebrows the same time that Furuya does—what the fuck is _lite water?_ —but Furuya repeats the long order slowly until Miyuki nods, satisfied.

“Make it large, thanks.”

As Furuya rings up the till, Miyuki glares at Oikawa when the other raises his eyebrows with a smirk and cocks his head towards the coffeeboy.

_What_ , Miyuki mouths at him subtly.

“Hey Miyuki,” Oikawa starts, grinning at the way Miyuki mutters another ‘what’ in response, this time out loud. “Are you free tomorrow?”

Miyuki hesitates as if trying to figure out his motive. “…Why?”

“Satoru-chan is going to the mochi festival tomorrow to get mochi for his mother. He invited me along, but I have plans with Iwa-chan so I can’t keep him company,” Oikawa says.

Ignoring the confused blink Furuya does at his words, he lathers as much sympathy and regret as much as he can into his voice, ploughing on to prevent Furuya from interrupting.

“You like food, right?” he says. “Why don’t you help Satoru-chan out?”

It’s obvious that Miyuki doesn’t expect him to throw him a _date_ —or whatever this is—because the catcher stares at him.

“Oikawa, what—”

Turning to Furuya, Oikawa lowers his voice into a mock whisper that’s of absolutely not at a softer volume.

“Miyuki looks like that, but he’s actually a really good cook. He can _make_ mochi,” he continues, not entirely sure if that’s true but it’s all for the sake of his roommate, it’s fine, “So he’ll be able to choose a good one for your mom.”

Oikawa inwardly thanks the coffee gods that Furuya is a man of few words because all Furuya does is to consider that statement before looking at Miyuki, who turns to look at him too.

“So what time is good for you, Satoru-chan?” Oikawa interrupts brightly, ignoring Miyuki completely. “How about 1 p.m. at the station there?”

Furuya nods, and Oikawa beams. “Cool. It’s a date!”

“It’s not a—“ Miyuki starts, but he falters off when he realises what he was going to say. He sighs. “Furuya, give me your number in case you get lost or something.”

_Smooth, Miyuki_ , Oikawa tries to downplay the snicker in his throat and pretends to look busy about putting down his things while Miyuki tries to aim a kick at his shins before he walks away. Furuya writes his number slowly on a piece of paper before sliding it to Miyuki. Miyuki hopes he takes it slow enough to make it not seem like he’s desperate before he follows after Oikawa.

“Miyuki-senpai.”

It’s the first time Furuya’s ever addressed him by _name_ —Miyuki nearly stumbles right into the chair he was moving towards.

“Uh, yeah?”

Furuya looks intently at the piece of paper he’s holding with Furuya’s number on it; it’s the receipt.

“Your coffee is six hundred and seventy yen.”

 

* * *

 

_“I hate you.”_

“You love me,” Oikawa sings, eyes glued to his laptop screen. “By the way, you’re going to be late.”

“Fuck, I hate you,” Miyuki repeats, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Anyway, why are you still here? I thought you had plans with Iwaizumi.”

It’s date day, mochi day, and Miyuki can’t comprehend why he’s feeling so jumpy about it. His nerves are racking up harder than when he’s in a match, which is ridiculous. He’s been pacing up and down their room picking at his clothes while Oikawa is at some episode of _Star Trek: Voyager_ —the other has re-watched this a couple of times already so he’s not miffed about the distracting groaning in the background.

Oikawa shrugs. “That’s tomorrow.”

“…You lied?”

“Is that surprising?” Oikawa hums. “Hey, I scored you some alone time with Satoru-chan. Where’s my gratitude?”

Miyuki ignores him and continues pacing.

“Seriously, Miyuki,” Oikawa says, pausing the show to look at him directly. “If you don’t leave now you _will_ be late.”

“I—I know,” Miyuki exhales roughly. “Okay, shit, d-do I look fine?”

It’s obvious how much it took for the catcher to ask for the Oikawa’s opinion about his clothes thereby showcasing his rare _vulnerability_ —and it’s a testament to how terrible the setter is that he laughs so hard that tears come to his eyes.  

“I wouldn’t wear those jeans with that shirt, but whatever floats your boat,” Oikawa says when he’s calmed down enough to face Miyuki’s hard glare. “At least kiss him, okay?” he calls as the other ignores him and goes to put on his socks and shoes. “Don’t waste my effort!”

 

* * *

 

Miyuki is surprisingly right on time despite how much time he’s wasted pacing around in his dorm, and now that he’s at the station with the crowd he feels a bit more relaxed. Nonetheless, he shoves his hands in his pockets and tries to look casual while waiting against the wall, fingers fidgeting against the phone inside his pocket. When five minutes pass and no sign of Furuya, he digs for his phone and hovers his thumb over Furuya’s contact—is he too impatient? Or should he wait some more? Or maybe Furuya realised that it was an absolutely horrible idea to go out with his worst customer. Not like _go out_ as in a date, but he means, spend time with—or. Fuck.

“Miyuki-senpai.”

Miyuki nearly bangs his head against the wall with how he jerks alert at the sound of his name. Furuya bows slightly towards him.

“Thank you for coming.”

Miyuki can’t help but immediately be drawn to Furuya’s height—he’s always known the younger is taller than him, but the height difference is so stark now that Furuya is right next to him instead of across a counter. The next thing he notices is the blue in Furuya’s eyes brought out by the blue button up shirt the other is wearing. He’s never seen Furuya outside of the apron over black clothes uniform in the coffeshop. Furuya looks refreshingly good in rolled up ankle jeans—wow shit, the other’s ankles are so pale. Abruptly Miyuki snaps his head up when he realises he’s been unabashedly _looking_.

“You’re late,” he says in reply, mouth kind of dry.

Furuya lowers his gaze and mumbles an apology, which makes Miyuki want to kick himself. God, it’s been less than a minute and he can’t help but ruin everything.

“I’m just kidding,” he says, trying to lighten the mood between them. “Come on, let’s go.”

Furuya follows after his steps as he leads them out of the station and through the underground passageway leading into the mall where the mochi festival is held in the exhibition hall in the basement. Miyuki casts glances over to the other occasionally, trying to rack his brain to think of something to say. All he’s ever said to Furuya are his drink orders and his complains about them—fuck, he suddenly realises he knows _nothing_ about Furuya to even initiate a conversation.

“So,” he begins, scratching the back of his neck. “What of mochi does your mother like?”

“She gave me a list,” Furuya says, fumbling a bit with his phone before showing Miyuki the screen.

Miyuki raises his eyebrows at the long list of different types of mochi flavours Furuya has been told to buy—it’s practically one of every flavour he can think of. “You have a big family or something?”

Furuya shakes his head. “She likes to give them out as presents.”

Miyuki hums. “What about you? What’s your favourite?”

There’s no hesitation when Furuya answers. “Peanut.”

“Me too!” Miyuki blurts, surprised. “Cool,” he coughs, trying not to feel mortified about how _eager_ he had sounded. “Let’s hunt for the best peanut mochi, yeah?”

Furuya’s eyes lights up in a way that Miyuki has to clench his fists to resist ruffling the other’s hair—shit, Furuya is so innocently _cute_ , he instantly feels bad about all his ulterior motives.

It gets more crowded the closer that they get to the area where the mochi stalls are, and Miyuki inwardly winces when they reach the entrance; it’s almost sardine packed. He notices Furuya looks slightly uncomfortable about the tight bustle and noise, and he nudges the other teasingly.

“You can hold my hand if you’re scared you’ll get lost.”

Furuya actually _looks_ at him in response—surprise at his lame line or just plain bewilderment, Miyuki doesn’t want to know, and he drags Furuya to the first stall in line. It takes a bit of shoving and squeezing but they eventually make it to the stall front, where the store’s speciality is being advertised as well as the list of flavours available. There’s no peanut one here; apparently the black sesame is a hit for this particular brand.

As Furuya stares at the professionally wrapped boxes and delicate mochi sitting inside with wide-eyed wonder—fuck, he’s so _cute—_ Miyuki swipes one of the mochi samples on a toothpick just to keep his mouth busy otherwise he might say something disastrous. The mochi is smooth, slightly tangy with just the right amount of chewiness, but the sesame filling is a bit too sweet for his taste.

“Well, it’s not bad,” he comments when he swallows it down and pokes another mochi piece for Furuya with his toothpick. “Here, try it.”

Miyuki nearly drops the toothpick when Furuya simply leans forward and bites off the mochi—there might be a small place in hell ready for him with the way he watches Furuya chew and lick his lips after like the other is left _wanting_ and looking at Miyuki like he’s waiting for _permission_ to buy a box.

“You’re so easily satisfied,” Miyuki comments with mirth. “No, we’re only going to get the _best_ for your mother,” he says after he thanks the salespeople at the stall and pulls Furuya to the next one.

They spend at least an hour squeezing their way around and sampling the mochi. It didn’t look like it before, but the area is _huge_ and they’ve covered less than a quarter of the total number of stalls with only three flavours bought. Miyuki thinks he’s finally found a lychee flavoured one that matches up with his standards when he realises that Furuya isn’t beside him, and he whips his head around in slight alarm. Furuya is somewhere behind him, struggling to move to where he is but the unrelenting crowd is pushing against him. He immediately reaches for and grabs Furuya’s hand to pull the younger to him before the other gets swallowed away by the crowd.

“Hey, keep close,” he chides, keeping his voice gentle when he notices Furuya relaxing in relief. “Try this one.”

As Furuya eats the lychee mochi, Miyuki tries not to let blood rush to his face while Furuya keeps on holding on to his hand although he had already relaxed his grip.

 

* * *

 

Oikawa hastily wipes his hand on his jeans after stuffing a whole mochi into his mouth because he needs hands to _type._ The character limit on captioning really limits the excitement he feels of the snap he had taken of Miyuki _holding hands_ —

 

> _> > ARE YOU SEEING THIS IWA-CHAN?????  
>  _ _oh my god oh my god oh my go d oh  
>  _ _my god oh my go ddd_
> 
>  
> 
> _> > i can’t see shit_

 

Comes Iwaizumi’s reply, and Oikawa swallows down his mochi with a huff. Fine, it’s crowded as hell and he’s trying to stalk Miyuki without being seen from another booth—a blurry picture is hardly his fault. He grits his teeth and tries to angle for a better picture before Miyuki and date move on from the stall; seems like they’re buying a box so Oikawa’s in luck.

“Sir?”

Oikawa startles and curses when he realises he’s taken yet another blurry picture—but he plasters on his mega-watt smile and turns his attention to the salesgirl. “Yes?”

“Would you like to try some mochi?”

It’s matcha flavoured, Oikawa notes.

“Sure,” he replies, although he’s already carrying two boxes in hand—they’re meant for Iwaizumi, but his agitation had caused him to polish off more than half a box already, it can’t hurt to buy another one.

 

> _> > hey you want this flavour?_
> 
> _> > oikawa i said its fine. don’t buy so much, idiot_

 

‘It’s fine’ means Oikawa buys another box. When he hands over the money he notices out of the corner of his eye that Miyuki and Furuya are heading his way and he panics, grabbing his change and hightailing away before the other two can see him. He sighs when leans against a pillar a distance away, fishing out another mochi a split second later to eat. Fuck Miyuki, he’s going to go broke and then put on weight at the rate he’s inhaling all this sugary goodness.

He peeks around the pillar to ensure that he hasn’t been seen, and he’s not prepared for the moment that so happened to occur when he’s watching; he’s not sure what transpired but Miyuki is _laughing_ , head thrown back and smile wide, expression most carefree as he’s ever seen, and Furuya is _still_ clutching Miyuki’s hand. They look disgustingly cute and Oikawa bites his lip while he tries to zoom in with his phone camera to get a decent shot.

He’s going to have Miyuki name his first child after him, just saying.

 

* * *

 

Four hours later they merge with Furuya’s shopping list ticked and done. Miyuki eyes the number of boxes Furuya is carrying while he’s only bought one for self-indulgent purposes. His feet are aching and he smells like sweat but he feels a bit giddy with how fluttery his chest still feels being beside Furuya. He squashes down the feeling of disappointment as much as he can when Furuya lets go of his hand once they exit the exhibition area—seems like Furuya had taken his earlier line literally.

“Sure you can handle all these boxes?” Miyuki asks, not that he’s nice, but that maybe he can see where Furuya lives, and then…

Miyuki jerks his line of sight when something— _someone_ familiar passes by when Furuya opens his mouth to reply, and the split second that Miyuki realises it’s _Oikawa Tooru_ is followed by Furuya bodily crashing into him unto the ground with their mouths smashed together.

There’s a fake high pitched, “Ah, I’m so sorry!” in the background but Miyuki hears nothing, too stunned to process anything but the pain on his palms from trying to brace himself from the fall and Furuya’s weight on him and Furuya’s _lips_ on him—

When Furuya pushes himself up they’re still barely a centimetre away. Miyuki unconsciously wets his lips and in his haze blinded mind, he would’ve kissed Furuya again, _properly_ , if Furuya didn’t retract fully to get off him.

“I’m sorry, Miyuki-senpai, I—someone knocked into me,” Furuya reaches to help him up but Miyuki doesn’t think he can restrain himself if Furuya touches him again so he brushes himself off and stands of his own accord.

“It’s okay, don’t mind,” he laughs even if he finds his own tone weird— _Oikawa, the fucking piece of_ —and inhales deeply. “Get your mochi before someone steps on them.”

When Miyuki picks up the last of the boxes that had been tossed in the fall, he sees Furuya zoning out and pressing his lips together experimentally. Maybe Furuya is thinking about the kiss? It makes his heart skip, although Furuya’s facial expression looks much too calm to be thinking about a kiss.

He taps Furuya’s forehead and holds out the last box. “Furuya, here.”

“Thank you, Miyuki-senpai. I’m sorry about knocking into you.”

There’s no hint of blush on Furuya’s face which makes Miyuki really wonder what Furuya is thinking about—considering all he can think of is that accidental kiss; he’s sure he might be making a bigger deal out of it since he has a crush, but normal people don’t just brush kisses away unless they’re _used_ to it or…

“I said it’s fine. Just be more careful,” he replies, waving it off. “Though that would’ve been bad if it was your first kiss, huh,” he ends off with a chuckle, aiming for a light-hearted tease.

“It was.”

Miyuki nearly chokes on his swallow when he hears that, lips apart to say something in response—but he’s speechless, so he closes it, switching to a grunt in his throat instead. It feels like too much has happened in one day, maybe it’s best that he goes home to cool off. At the train gantry, he’s about to ask Furuya which line the other is taking when Furuya beats him to it.

“Miyuki-senpai,” Furuya says, Miyuki relishes how much he likes hearing his name rolling off the younger’s tongue, and produces one of the boxes of mochi he’s bought earlier to present to him. It’s peanut mochi. “This is for you. Thank you for today.”

Surprised, he blinks. “Uh, oh, thanks.”

“On Monday,” Furuya continues, “I promise I won’t mess it up your coffee. See you then, senpai.”

Miyuki stares after Furuya who disappears first through the gates and the only thought through Miyuki’s mind is that even if the other does mess up his coffee he won’t even be mad, and that’s when he knows how far he’s gone.

 

* * *

 

> _> > KISS KISS FALL IN LOVE_
> 
> _> > what did you do_
> 
> _> > WHY DO YOU ALWAYS ASSUME I DID SOMETHING_
> 
> _> > you posed with a peace sign in the picture  
>  _ _of course you did something_
> 
> _> > okay maybe just this once_  
>  _i got them to kiss!! KISS!!!  
>  _ _call me cupid <3_
> 
> _> > you misspelled ‘stupid’_
> 
> _> > I WA CHAN_
> 
> _> > miyuki’s gonna kill you when he gets to your dorm i hope you’re prepared_
> 
> _> > why would he kill me pls i just made him a married man_
> 
> _> > besides that he didn’t ask you to?  
>  _ _oikawa you can’t shove two peoples faces together just for your own amusement_
> 
> _> > it’s not /just/ for my own amusement  
>  _ _i heard miyuki moaning satoru-chan’s name when I caught him jerking off the other day_
> 
> _> > TMI I DON’T WANT TO KNOW_
> 
> _> > just kidding :P_  
>  _i’ve never heard him jerk off  
>  _ _he probably does it in the shower like me_
> 
> _> > I SAID TMI_  
>  _I still say he’s going to be angry_  
>  _you better find some place to hide or it’s your dead body i’ll be collecting the next time i go over_
> 
> _> > that’s why I have you, right :D_  
>  _you’ll protect me from miyuki’s evil claws  
>  _ _see you in five minutes iwa-chan_
> 
> _> > wait what_  
>  _oikawa_  
>  _OIKAWA  
>  _ _OIKAWA OI  
>  _ _ARE YOU SERIOUSLY ON MY CAMPUS RIGHT NOW_

* * *

 

He should’ve kissed Furuya earlier. So much earlier.

Miyuki breathes out, barely controlled as he pushes Furuya harder against the wall and plunders into Furuya’s mouth with his tongue. Furuya is warm, wet and pliant, meeting his demanding kiss obediently by parting his lips apart wider for better access. Furuya clutches the back of his shirt for purchase when he draws out a low pleasured moan; he nips on Furuya’s kiss-swollen lips and trails it to Furuya’s right ear, where he places a small bite at the lobe before continuing down the pale neck.

“Miyuki-senpai…” Furuya exhales his name shakily when he licks over the sensitive skin and sucks on it hotly. “Miyuki-senpai….”

“Hm?” Miyuki hums lazily against Furuya’s throat before sucking on it again.

“—Miyuki-senpai.”

“Miyuki-senpai?”

Miyuki jolts awake when a hand shakes his shoulder with added force; he lifts his head from his arm, blinking rapidly to orient himself. Furuya is hovering over him, pushing his glasses towards him when he blindly gropes for it on the table. He’s still in the coffeeshop where Oikawa had left him to go to volleyball practice about three hours ago. He thought he’d stay an hour or so more (to watch Furuya, shh) but he’s been tired lately from his coursework submission deadlines.

He had been…—dreaming. Fuck. Miyuki turns his mind away from the obvious strain in his pants and tries to calm himself down. As far as he knows he doesn’t talk in his sleep—unlike his roommate—which should mean he’s safe about having dirty fantasies in his sleep about the boy standing next to him.

Accidental or not, he can’t stop thinking about that kiss two weeks ago and it’s been driving (only) him crazy that Furuya seems to accept that it’s a completely normal occurrence to have accidental kisses and thus never brings it up. Maybe it is. Miyuki doesn’t know, because who the fuck actually has accidental kisses in real life?

“Fuck, I didn’t realise,” he says abruptly when he notices the time on his laptop. It’s past the shop’s closing time, and everything seems to have been cleaned and kept already, with just Furuya waiting on him. “You should’ve woken me up earlier, Furuya.”

“It’s fine. You looked tired,” Furuya replies. “Your coffee, Miyuki-senpai. Do you still want it?”

Miyuki glances at the quarter left tall non-fat two percent foam latte he ordered (he can’t stop being a jerk, that’s how he is unfortunately) and grabs it to down it in one long gulp. Furuya looks surprised when he hands over the empty mug and wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Was it done right?” Furuya asks cautiously, taking the mug.

“Huh? Oh,” Miyuki pauses, because honestly he could care less whether Furuya screws up his orders anymore—if at all, “Yeah it was…good.”

Miyuki would really like to say that Furuya _smiles_ —it’s not a smile, but it might as well be with how delighted the younger looks with his wide surprised glittering blue eyes. Before Miyuki can mortify himself and say something either wildly embarrassing or inappropriate—he’s so fucking _cute_ , Miyuki hates the involuntary tremble in his fingers—Furuya heads into the back kitchen to wash his mug with the brightest aura Miyuki has ever seen. When Furuya comes out without the apron and his bag, Miyuki is waiting for him. Miyuki hopes he hides his complexion well enough as he pretends to be causal about it.

“Heading home?” he starts conversationally as Furuya locks up the front door. “Where do you live?”

“I live nearby.”

Miyuki rolls his eyes. “And where is that exactly?”

When Furuya mumbles the name of the dormitory hall, he blinks. “I lived there last year with Oikawa, but we got sorted into a different dorm this year. We could’ve taken the same train back the other time. Come on, I’ll walk you back, it’s along my way.”

It’s not a lie—though he does have to make a detour that might take him fifteen minutes more to walk home. _Embarrassing_ , his heart whispers, but he can’t bring himself to care when Furuya thanks him quietly with small upturned lips.

 

* * *

 

When the front door opens and closes, Oikawa waits for Miyuki to saunter in and complain about the darkness because Oikawa had all the lights turned off for his _Stargate-SG1_ marathon. He’d thought Miyuki would be back before he did—he had volleyball practice after all and now he clutches a cup of instant noodles (his dinner) with a large bowl of popcorn beside him on the bed ready for the sci-fi enjoyment.

A minute passes and all he hears is a quiet exhale, and Oikawa pauses his video.

“…Miyuki?” he ventures into the silence.

There’s no reply, which seriously creeps Oikawa out—darkness not helping—he hopes this isn’t some lame prank by their hall mates or something. He nearly trips over his volleyball when he stumbles off his bed to flick the light switch on before popping his head around the corridor where their front door is.

Miyuki _is_ there, looking like he’s in a daze and slumped to the floor against the door with his knees pulled up.

“Miyuki?” Oikawa tries again, coming closer. “You okay?”

Miyuki jerks at the sound of his name and whatever look in his eyes had cleared immediately to put on a fake grin. “Yeah. I didn’t realise you were in. Why were all the lights off? Were you trying to scare me or something?”

“Stargate marathon,” Oikawa answers absentmindedly as Miyuki pushes himself up to stand. “Where were you? I thought you’d be back before I was. Did you wait for Satoru-chan to end his shift?”

“Not everything I do is about Furuya, Oikawa,” Miyuki says pointedly and pushes away the offending finger held up as Oikawa smirks widely.

“I really don’t understand why you’re denying it even more as your crush as gets bigger,” Oikawa raises his eyebrows smugly. “Miyuki. You’re blushing.”

It’s a big fat _lie_ —but it ultimately becomes truth when Miyuki actually believes him and flushes dark red. Oikawa bursts into laughter so hard he nearly cries.

“—oh my god, oh shit, where’s my phone, I need to snap a pic of—mmrrphhh!”

Oikawa yelps and struggles as Miyuki muffles his mouth shut and pins him to the ground before he can go and search for his phone.

 “ _Shut up_ , Oikawa,” Miyuki grits his teeth with his hands almost seriously strangling Oikawa on the floor.

Oikawa stops struggling when he realises that Miyuki is genuinely pissed off, and he relaxes, unbothered by the hands on his neck.

“Miyuki,” he starts, gentle.

“ _What.”_

“You like Satoru-chan, right?”

Miyuki glares at him. “Which part of ‘shut up’ did you not understand?”

Oikawa smiles. “Why are you so afraid of your feelings?”

Miyuki stares at Oikawa, his fingers clenching around the setter’s neck once more before he finally decides to pull away. “I’m not,” he says eventually, but even that sounds fake to his own ears.

Oikawa hums non-committedly, pushing himself to sit up. “Then admit to me that you like him.”

The catcher keeps silent for a near drawn out minute, until the other finally opens his mouth.

“…I feel so fucking stupid,” Miyuki admits, swallowing hard. “I…shit. This is ridiculous, I’ve _fucked_ people before, why the fuck can’t I…”

Oikawa only lets out a small chuckle—a full blown one would get Miyuki mad again. “You can’t stop thinking about him.”

“Yeah.”

“There’s nothing special about him, but everything about him is special.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re better when you’re with him. You want to _be_ better when you’re with him.”

“…Yeah,” Miyuki mutters, cheeks pink and decidedly looking away. “Is…is that how it is with Iwaizumi?”

Oikawa stares, stunned for a moment before he remembers to say something. He blatantly ignores the question and states, “Ask Satoru-chan out, Miyuki.”

“Wha— _no_!” the catcher splutters.

“It’s not that hard. I’m sure you’ve asked people out before.”

“Actually, I haven’t,” Miyuki answers, both embarrassed and smug at once. “I’ve never needed to.”

Oikawa sighs terribly. “Well you do _now_ ,” the setter says blandly before he morphs his lips into a grin. “Hey, I can teach you some lines that you should _absolutely_ say.”

 

* * *

 

Miyuki is sure Oikawa teaches him some lines that he should absolutely _not_ say. Rather, he’s only ever going to say such cheesy filth over his dead body. Oikawa keeps sending him waggling eyebrows throughout the entire afternoon and Miyuki has kicked him no less than twenty times—it’s a whole afternoon wasted from how jittery he is that he can’t concentrate on writing his essay due next week.

It’s worse than playing for the Koshien championship title in high school.

Oikawa stays with him till closing time, maybe to ensure that he doesn’t skimp out on this.

“Oh, I forgot I have something I need to do _right away_ , Miyuki,” Oikawa says loudly, acting possibly quite bad on purpose when the clock hits six sharp. “Take your time, I’ll leave first! See you later!”

“Yeah…” Miyuki mutters.

“Bye Satoru-chan! Thanks for the amazing coffee toffee frappe! Take care of Miyuki, okay? When alone, he’s a poor sensitive soul!”

_Totally uncalled for_ , Miyuki glares as Oikawa waves to both of them enthusiastically before skipping out the door. Furuya doesn’t give so much as a blink to Oikawa’s behaviour—maybe used to it by how much they’ve hung out in the coffeeshop. Miyuki starts to clear his papers and laptop while Furuya takes their empty mugs away.

He waits—fidgeting; _this is_ _worse than Koshien_ , he absolutely agrees.

Furuya comes out with a wet towel and Miyuki realises that Furuya isn’t going to leave yet but is going to clean the tables first.

“You don’t have to wait for me, Miyuki-senpai,” Furuya says when he continues to stand there.

Miyuki resists the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Furuya,” he forces himself to start. “Can…can I talk to you for a second?”

Furuya pauses and looks at him with full attention inquiringly.

“So, uh,” Miyuki is well aware that he has a habit of rubbing the back of his neck when he’s nervous, which is exactly what he’s doing right now. “For some time now…I…I uh, ah fuck,” he curses, damming the little speech he thought he should say to hell, “Will you go out with me? As in, _date_ ,” he swallows, “Me.”

The silence echoes when he finishes, and he instantly feels foolish. “I-it’s not to torment you or whatever, I’m completely serious, I—“

Miyuki clamps shut his word babble when Furuya _nods._

He doesn’t expect—he doesn’t know what he expects exactly, but at least something more just than an agreement made under a minute; he honestly thought he might have needed to… _convince_ Furuya….or something…and seeing Furuya so completely undeterred in contrast to his internal screaming really throws him off.

He probably stared at Furuya for close to two minutes after trying to decipher if that was really an answer. “…Is that a yes?”

Furuya nods again, totally calm. Miyuki’s rocketing pulse still hasn’t settled though.

“You—you’ll date me? Really?” he echoes, feeling numb. “Why?”

Furuya fiddles with the wet towel in his hands for a moment before speaking. “You’re nice, Miyuki-senpai.”

Miyuki blinks, and then blinks again. “I…am?”

“You always finish your coffee even though I don’t make it well,” Furuya says completely seriously.

Miyuki swallows. Oh god the _guilt_.

“Furuya, you…I…I wasn’t being _nice_ , I was…being the _worst_ ,” he exhales. “I was being difficult on purpose, because I like how you look when you—…” he breaks off abruptly, continuing the sentence with a lowered tone and looking away decidedly. “…when you’re trying to please me. Your coffee is fine.”

“Miyuki-senpai, you spent a day to help me buy mochi. And walked me home the other day.”

“That wasn’t _help_ ,” He rubs the back of his neck vigorously, but Furuya just tilts his head sideways in question. “That was—“ he sighs, giving up in the face of those innocent eyes. “But you’ll date me.”

This time, Furuya bows forward slightly. “Please take care of me.”

Fuck.

Fuck this, Miyuki is going to kiss him.

“I’m going to kiss you,” Miyuki says, stepping towards Furuya boldly until he’s cornered Furuya against the table.

Furuya doesn’t say anything, but this distance Miyuki can see Furuya’s pupils _dilate_ , and that’s all that really matters.

“Is that okay?” he suddenly remembers to ask before he meets their mouths together.

It’s only Furuya’s second kiss after all.

The younger presses his lips together a couple of times, like Miyuki has seen him do after the accidental kiss with a faint pink crawling up his neck. The answer is soft, but oh so clear.

“Yes.”

 

* * *

 

Oikawa doesn’t bother stifling his whistle when his phone records Miyuki stepping up to kiss the crush of his dreams—he doesn’t care if the store keepers of the shop next to the coffeshop are going to call the police on him from how suspicious he is hanging outside and peeping into the coffeeshop—at least Miyuki now has pictures to show on his wedding night.

He vaguely wonders if it’s normal to send ten second videos of other boys kissing after he snaps it to Iwaizumi with the caption _CUPID STRIKES AGAIN by yours truly \o/._

Iwaizumi’s reply is a boring,

 

> _> > well tell miyuki I said congrats_

 

Oikawa smiles.

 

> _> > no we’re totally gonna double date_  
>  _you can tell him then  
>  _ _I call dibs on being best man_
> 
>  
> 
> _> > you do that_
> 
> _> > it still can’t beat my confession tho am I right????_
> 
> _> > what confession_
> 
> _> > I WA-CHAN YOU ARE CRUEL ;v;_
> 
> _> > i only recall you crying like a baby_
> 
> _> > pls don’t cling to your masculinity so hard iwa-chan you cried first  
>  _ _p.s i love you  
>  _ _< 3_
> 
> _> > yeah love you too_

 

* * *

 

**_Fin._ **

**Author's Note:**

> Initially there was supposed to be serious mini-fight between Miyuki and Oikawa when Oikawa was pushing Miyuki to ask Furuya out but I guess that was scrapped. Miyuki doesn’t know that Iwaizumi and Oikawa are already together, he assumes Oikawa is still pining LUL Oikawa is purposely at fault for that. 
> 
> The number of times I nearly wrote Iwaizumi as Imaizumi is insane help me
> 
> bonus: [protective!oikawa and satoru-chan ;)](http://aozu.tumblr.com/post/138629568881/for-my-hipster-au-20-pumps-vanilla-1-pump)


End file.
